Voices
by Merida's Hair
Summary: A bunch of prose-ish poems told from various points of view. Trigger warnings for abuse in one of them.


**|| Regina and Daniel || Meadow ||**

they were sweet like a fresh batch of cookies from an oven. a pure taste. a purity that could cleanse the world if it'd blossom beyond the smallest bud. but purity is a falseness in the end overtaken. she was overtaken. not allowed to grow, to learn, to be loved. given up on. love was ripped from her like bark ripped from a tree trunk. they met in meadows, green and lush. hands on cheeks, and curled at fine hairs on the back of necks. promises of a forever dipped in horizon oranges and reds. a heart crushed. she tore apart her soul with her reckoning. her new beginnings were laced with arsenic. filled with blood, more blood than could fit in her veins. spilled over. drained others too. red spilling down streets, over the cobblestones. the smirk hides her inside where she's split apart. she'll give them the cruelty. she couldn't get him back, couldn't get herself back, and from the meaning of suffering came truths wrapped around her legs, her arms, her hands. fire shoots out. consuming. no more green. no more meadows. echoes, many. they were sweet, she and him, a bite into a fresh apple. goodbye love, you weren't her savior.

* * *

**|| Regina and Cora || Mother ||**

mother please. mother no. mother hold me up, mother give me strength. but mother teared me down. she was so small when it started. held up like a sacrificial lamb but called a queen. her eyes hadn't changed from a blue like water to tree bark. her hands reached out to be understood. as they always would be. mother coddled after she broke. mother has an empty chest cavity. mother gave and took. mother loved so much, too much, enough to destroy towns, worlds, break time itself, always turning and unforgiving. it was a love made of tinsel and rhinestones and onyx. deep and glimmering and full of empty promise. a selfish thought coiled around every pretty word. and by the time she understood the world had already served it's lashings. and she gave them back in kind.

* * *

**|| Emma || White Horse ||**

she held fairytales before stolen car keys. she never told a soul as time ate up the dreams within. her mother was beautiful, she decided. from her inside out. she had a white horse and she would gallop into the room with it's ripped up carpet and bleeding walls and take her where she'd be warm. safe. but she was a doomed wanderer. a feeling of safety became a warning bell. hide. someone wants to hurt you. hurt em' first. she learned the lesson as his promising kisses still stung her lips. she should have learned those harsh lessons the first time. the door had swung shut and locked in front of her. the door knob was chipping. maybe it'd never turn again. the hours lept bye. the pinks of the sky turned to a shivering dark blue. north star pointed home. but where? across the rooftops? in the meadows? it pointed nowhere. as nowhere as the stars seen when eyes are shut. kid, what are you doing out here all alone? got sent out. made too much noise. said too much. a small figure in a tattered pink jacket with the hole near the zipper swinging her feet side to side on the steps. her mother was beautiful. her mother had a white horse. she had a smile that could end wars. take me home. i want to feel home.

* * *

**|| Regina || Mirror ||**

you're a beauty, you're a witch. you're both. a delicious paradox. you make men cower. you make yourself cower for those few seconds you see what's become of you and let it sink in. they deserve it. the world is full of rats. the world deserves it's suffering. mirror, mirror on the wall. who deserves it the most of all? the mirror contains you, in all the ways you don't want to see. you want to be set free. it's what she wanted, the girl with the braids and the bright blue dress.

* * *

**|| Regina || Dinner Table ||**

can't you see, you want to yell. how much it's not worth it. the roles we're born into? you can't escape. no one can. we're in steel cages. the lock is tight and the key never existed. you're a twisted hag in the eyes of a little boy. bad person. monster. you're backed into a corner. you bite. but that's not what it always was, wasn't it? you wanted them to suffer. once. no. you still do. but the bite doesn't draw blood anymore. you need it to, but it won't. but how can you possibly redeem yourself in their eyes, while you still hate them. how can you ever redeem yourself in your own. you want to flay their righteousness alive. and you want to be accepted. you want a place mat at a family dinner. these things aren't meant for you. black coffee. a drafty dining room. a table made of cold glass. the poignant ringing of silence. home. a house.

* * *

**|| Snow and Regina || Good ||**

be good, child. be good. you have it within you. you were born with it. it's your legacy. it's heavy as your crown and it's yours to bear. you beat against the evils of the world with a smile, and then a frown, and then a crossbow. she was the most beautiful person, your savior the day the horse carried you off. you never wanted to let go. she radiated a purity, a sweetness in the corners of her smile. she was good, like you were supposed to be. are. had to be. when she fell from grace, you think maybe you did too. your heart is pure, child. your heart can't be tainted. it's simpler to think you'll always win. simpler to believe in simplicity. when your heart beats with an inkling of what so many said wasn't possible, you break. they were wrong. it might have even been there long ago.

* * *

**|| Regina and Emma || Savior ||**

you don't deserve each other. it's the crutch of every step towards a new beginning. and the fact remains that both of you don't care. the kiss is like burning. the kind that runs through your veins, maybe hers too. her hands tug at your hair, pulling it. she is a kind of beauty you didn't expect. you don't expect anything about her. you can't. you'll just be surprised and hate yourself for it. hate her. but you can't hate her. as much as you tried, as much as you pushed, she stayed. stubbornly. her curls bouncing in the wind. the yellow bug a permanent fixture. she's saving you when you didn't ask her to. she's saving you even though the word savior makes her want to curl up into a ball. it's only you, somehow who knows this. knows the differences between expectations and a cruel reality that just keeps on being unforgiving. relentless. you reach out a hand, and it's grasped gently, too gently.

the past is there. it's as heavy like a sandbag. like cold iron. your bones could shatter. your lips bleed from biting down. it'll way you down unless you set it down to move freely again. and that's your mantra, hers, as you see in her in her bed in the morning with her halo curls, and yet not an angel. as she wakes you up with a kiss you don't deserve. love might still save you. you've craved it for so long, but in the wake of it, the fear grips you strongly. turns up the hairs at the back of your neck. it could hurt you. it's definitely a weakness. the key to this all, was not caring. a weakness it might, but perhaps one that could settle on your waist and stroke your hair and listen and turn into a strength.


End file.
